


Hold me down

by blackmoonalcolyte (jomipay)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Getting Together, Grizzop never goes to Rome au, Grizzop on the airship, M/M, Mild Dom/Sub Elements, Multi, Non-Standard Genitalia, Other, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28705671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/pseuds/blackmoonalcolyte
Summary: Zolf carefully kneels beside them. “You two couldn’t even wait five damn minutes.” He grumbles, but there’s not any heat behind it and he follows it up by pushing a strand of hair out of Wilde’s face.Grizzop shakes his head. “No, no waiting.” He scrabbles upright, kneeling on Wilde’s chest, eliciting a small oof as he takes Zolf’s face in his hands.“Done waiting.”
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	Hold me down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



> For Miri.
> 
> This is a belated birthday present for Miri. I love your fic so much and wanted to make something for you that you will hopefully enjoy! Thank you for being wonderful.
> 
> Thank you Zoë for talking through this idea with me and helping me flesh it out!
> 
> This an au in which Grizzop never goes to Rome, but everything else is much the same.

They fight over who the best person to guide Wilde back is, of course they do, both standing across from each other, arms crossed and fuming.

“Why shouldn’t it be me?” Grizzop demands, and they’ve been at this so long, Zolf’s patience and emotions have been worn so completely raw that he doesn’t care what might slip out now.

“Because you push, Grizzop! You  _ push _ and you can’t force him, he has to come on his own.”

Zolf knows that one has hit its mark. Grizzop goes quiet, eyes brimming with unshed tears. It doesn’t feel good. “And you think you can—what? Convince him to come back?” Are you gonna be able to give him a reason to? Not just going to ignore it and hope it goes away?”

Grizzop begins to pace in front of him, frantic and unhinged and Zolf thinks that if he had hair he would be pulling on it. “You think  _ you _ can really convince him to come back?”

It’s said to be hurtful. Grizzop has always been good at that in a raw, unhoned sort of way. A hunter’s natural instinct for finding and exploiting weaknesses. Zolf doesn’t care. 

Zolf goes. He has to stop Grizzop from smacking Wilde awake the way Azu does Carter. They both need to sleep but Zolf knows neither of them will manage it. Grizzop goes off, wanders the city in frenzied circles while Zolf reads at the head of Wilde’s bunk. They walk out of the bunkhouse, Wilde with his arm slung over Zolf’s shoulders and Zolf reminds him when he doesn’t remember.  _ I need you. _

“We should find Grizzop. Think maybe he wants to talk to you, too. He uhm—he wanted to go, to get you.” 

They find Grizzop a few streets over. His red eyes are murderous as he stalks towards them. Wilde tenses beside Zolf. 

“You!” Grizzop snarls, pointing a clawed finger at Wilde. He looks for all the world like he might just send Wilde right back to the afterlife before his face crumples. Wilde twigs it first and drops to his knees, holding his arms tentatively open. Grizzop surges into them with enough force Zolf thinks for a moment that they’ll both topple backwards into the snow. 

Grizzop cries into Wilde’s shoulder and sniffles, “Don’t you ever do that again,” as Wilde rubs soothing circles into his back. 

Jealousy flares in Zolf’s stomach at the sight. Or maybe it’s not jealousy. Frustration, perhaps. Frustration with himself for being unable to do the same, for patting Wilde’s hand earlier, for holding himself back, for still not being sure, when Grizzop is openly sobbing and crawling into Wilde’s lap to be held. 

They walk back to the bunk house and Grizzop crawls into bed with Wilde. They both look at him expectantly and Zolf grumbles and picks up his book, emotions too tumultuous for him to want to sleep. Zolf tries to bury his attention in his book but the rustling of the sheets as Grizzop and Wilde shift keeps distracting him. He glances over the pages and sees that Grizzop has curled up on Wilde’s chest, head pressed over his heart with both arms wrapped around his neck with Wilde’s arms around his back, holding him in place. They’re both completely out of it.

Zolf stares, trying to figure out where the ache in his chest is coming from. They look younger in their sleep, and calm, safe. It looks like jealousy, upon first glance, but the longer Zolf looks at it, the less certain he is. Who is he even jealous of? He looks back and forth between them and his arms itch. He wants to lie on the bunk with his back to the rest of the room, a barrier between them and everything else. Is he jealous of...both of them?

“I can hear you thinking.” 

Wilde’s voice startles him and he drops his book. Wilde cracks an eye open just in time to catch Zolf scrambling to pick it up from the floor. 

Wilde loosens his grip on Grizzop to pat the bed beside him. “Why don’t you come to bed?”

Wilde’s face is open in the dark of the morning, still too early to be broken by sunlight, his expression hopeful. Zolf sucks in a sharp breath and leans forward, his body ahead of his mind. Wilde shifts over, jostling Grizzop slightly. Grizzop’s ears twitch and he turns towards Zolf, holding an arm out towards him. It’s all the convincing Zolf needs. 

  
  


***

They haven’t talked about it, but Wilde knows it’s different now. Zolf and Grizzop follow him to bed, let their hands touch as they walk together, look at him with more softness than he deserves. It doesn’t surprise him when they have to make camp and Grizzop simply informs the rest that three of them will be sharing a tent. Grizzop set it up in a corner of the campsite, as far away from the other tents as possible. Wilde thinks it must be a tactical thing until Grizzop drags him into it and shoves him down onto one of the bed rolls, climbing on top of him and kissing him hard, without an ounce of hesitation. It shocks a laugh out of him but Grizzop nips at his bottom lip and he is lost to it, groaning and pulling Grizzop closer as he tries to figure out the best way to navigate all of Grizzop’s teeth. 

Wilde takes a hand, slides it up the back of his neck and uses it to stroke up one of Grizzop’s ears, making Grizzop whimper and grind his hips and the hardness between his legs into Wilde’s chest.

“Mmmph.” Wilde groans in delight, wriggling a hand between them and encouraging Grizzop to thrust against it. “What have we here?”

He curls his fingers around it, feeling the intriguing shape of it, running his palm over it and feeling the dampness soaking through the front of Grizzop’s trousers. He cranes his head to better facilitate unfastening Grizzop’s trousers just as the tent flap opens and Zolf steps through.

The dwarf grunts in surprise and makes to turn around before both of them snap their heads around to look at him. Spotted, Zolf freezes.

Grizzop grins and it’s wide and sharp and objectively terrifying but Wilde knows Zolf loves it. “You could stay.” Wilde offers.

“Would be nice if you joined us.” Grizzop adds, the only thing giving away his nervousness a tiny flick of an ear.

Zolf takes a step forward and Wilde feels Grizzop’s matching thrill as his body tenses under his hands. “You could just watch, if you wanted.” 

“Or you can get undressed and get his trousers off.” Grizzop says, eying the dwarf up and down and biting his bottom lip. “If you want.”

Zolf carefully kneels beside them. “You two couldn’t even wait five damn minutes.” He grumbles, but there’s not any heat behind it and he follows it up by pushing a strand of hair out of Wilde’s face. 

Grizzop shakes his head. “No, no waiting.” He scrabbles upright, kneeling on Wilde’s chest, eliciting a small  _ oof _ as he takes Zolf’s face in his hands. 

“Done waiting.” 

Grizzop kisses him and Wilde moans at the picture they make. Gods, but they’re gorgeous. Zolf pulls away and both he and Grizzop get to work undressing him, alternating between trading hungry, eager kisses with each other and with him. Grizzop nips up and down his ribs, biting harder at his neck when it becomes apparent how much Wilde enjoys that, gasping and moaning at the hard press of teeth. Zolf spreads his thighs and Grizzop settles with him between them, sucking marks into the tender flesh on the insides while Zolf gets a hand around him and starts stroking. He spares a thought for their neighbors and does his best to stifle his cries. Zolf teases a finger around his rim and Wilde pushes against it, so desperate to have it within him.

Zolf holds him down. “Can you do anything about lube?”

He’s just about to answer when Grizzop interrupts, taking one of Zolf’s hands and guiding it to his dripping tendrils. Wilde watches with rapt attention and moans as Zolf strokes Grizzop, getting his fingers nice and coated in the natural slick before returning them to Wilde’s hole and sliding one in. Wilde arches into it and it’s silky and warm and  _ perfect. _

Zolf has a rather smug smile on his face as he tucks another finger in next to the first, Grizzop watching the slide of them in and out of his body. He catches Grizzop’s eye and motions for him. 

“Come here, come  _ here _ .” Grizzop crawls up his body, slick tendrils sliding against his stomach and chest, smearing them with the silky fluid. 

Grizzop’s sex is lovely, flushed dark green with blood, tendrils wrapped up together in a tight bundle and dripping with slick. Wilde grabs his hips and pulls until he’s straddling his neck and he can get his mouth around him. Grizzop groans and slumps forward, finding purchase in Wilde’s hair as he swallows him down. Wilde encourages him to thrust with his hips, grunting and moaning in approval as he starts to do so in earnest, slick spilling sweet and bitter over his tongue and down his throat.

Zolf slips another finger into him and he groans, making Grizzop shudder as the sound vibrates around where the tips of his tendrils are nestled in Wilde’s throat. After what seems like ages Zolf withdraws his fingers, leaving him empty and clenching before they are replaced with the head of his cock sliding in and filling him perfectly. He moves slowly at first, letting Wilde take what he can with the arching of his back and circling of his hips before fucking into him steadily.

He feels so wonderfully pinned, so exquisitely full like this with one of his loves fucking his face as the other fucks his ass. He hopes beyond hope that it will become a regular occurrence. 

He can tell Grizzop is getting close as his hands tighten their hold in his hair, the tips of his claws pricking against his scalp and sending sparks of sensation shooting down his spine. He pushes Grizzop forward with a hand against his lower back, taking him as deep as possible and swallowing his release. Zolf grunts as Grizzop moves away, down Wilde’s body and the sight of them both there is almost enough to make him come. Grizzop shoots him a wicked grin and wraps both his hands around his cock, neither of them fully encircling him. Both of his lovers watch his face intently as he moans for them and thrusts into their touch, smiling down at him and encouraging his release, Zolf grunting and groaning with the effort of chasing his own and Grizzop giddy and sated with his own. Wilde squeezes his eyes shut as he comes in long, pulsing waves, clenching rhythmically around Zolf. He opens them a moment later to see Zolf’s mouth drop open as he spills inside of him. There is a moment of silence, a moment of stillness, before they all collapse into a giddy, giggling heap.

***

Grizzop is happy to be back on the airship, happy to be moving again, happy to be getting on with the mission, to be heading towards something. The only problem is it doesn’t  _ feel _ that way. It feels like he’s stuck. The clouds obscure the ground from view most days as they’re getting to warmer temperatures and the airship is just so small. There’s nothing for him to do right now, nothing for him to hunt—just a journey he can’t make go any faster and a waiting he’s never had the patience for.

Wilde plays a game with him sometimes. He has his magic back now and he uses it to conceal himself, to move about the ship like a phantom as Grizzop tries to find him. The last time they’d done it Wilde’s scent had led him back to his room, seemingly empty and silent.    
  


_ “Know you’re in here Wilde, can hear you breathing.”  _ _ Wilde let the illusion fall, coming into focus sitting on the bunk in front of him. Grizzop grins and climbs into his lap, fisting both hands in his hair. “Caught me.” Wilde breathes into his throat as Grizzop impatiently tugs at the man’s overly complicated clothing. Wilde spurs him on, bucking his hips to let him feel how hard he is. “What are you going to do with me now that you’ve got me?” Grizzop shoves him flat on his back and sets to work sucking a mark into his throat so dark and sharp that he or Zolf might actually have to heal it later. _

The game usually works and the fucking that comes afterwards usually relaxes him, but the frantic energy he feels today doesn’t seem willing to settle for that, for letting him win. It’s the kind of energy that needs to be forced to submit. He talks one of the kobolds into switching shifts with him. Zolf and Wilde are both free right now, probably in Wilde’s tiny cabin curled up together and reading. That’s exactly how he finds them when he walks into the room. They both twig something is wrong immediately. Disentangling themselves and sitting up. 

Grizzop’s blood is vibrating, buzzing around in his head and his body, making it hard to think, making it so hard to be anything but moving. Wilde spreads his legs and Grizzop steps between them, leaning into the caress Wilde gives his cheek. 

“What do you need?”

He looks to Zolf. “Hold me down?” He’s still not good at asking for this, but he’s getting better. 

Zolf nods and strokes an ear, fingers thick and warm. His body is already starting to relax, ever so slightly, at the touch of his lovers. Wilde holds his face in both hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You want us to hold you down and take care of you?”

Grizzop nods. He’s tugged between them in an instant, clothes being removed with the kind of quickness and efficiency that comes with familiarity and practice.

“Tell me what you say if you want things to stop.”

Grizzop gasps as Zolf’s hand brushes over his neck. “Fiddlesticks.”

Wilde nods once, satisfied. “Good.”

With that he’s pushed down, flat on his back, one of Zolf’s hands on his sternum, the other on his hip. He tests the grip and finds he can only squirm ineffectually—Zolf is so dizzyingly strong. Wilde spreads his legs and smiles when he finds him already hard and slick. He licks his lips and then swallows Grizzop down in one smooth motion. Zolf’s grip keeps him from moving into it like he wants to, makes him take whatever Wilde gives him. He groans, restlessness bleeding out of him as Wilde’s tongue swirls around him. The press of Zolf’s hand is heavy on his chest with every breath, a constant reminder. He comes embarrassingly quickly, whimpering as Zolf coos at him. Wilde shifts to straddle one of his thighs.

“I’ll hold his chest down if you’d like to open him up, dear.”

Grizzop groans and throws his head back. Zolf shifts and his broad hand on Grizzop’s chest is replaced with Wilde’s long and elegant fingers, stretching from the tip of his sternum to the hollow of his throat. He knows it's coming, but the stretch of Zolf’s finger sliding into him still punches a breath out of him, making the weight of Wilde’s hand on him more apparent. Words evade him, all he can do is gasp and pant and moan. Wilde swallows him down again and Zolf stretches him wide with a second finger and he can’t even move to grind against it, can’t hold Wilde still and fuck into his throat. He just has to lie there and take it. 

He goes boneless after his second orgasm. Zolf and Wilde let him have a bit of a breather, kissing each other with open mouths, Zolf licking the taste of him off Wilde’s tongue. He can’t help the moan that rips out of his throat. 

“Enough?” Wilde asks and Grizzop nods. 

They release him, but he has no desire to move, no place he wants to be but boneless between his lovers.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading loves, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> I love the idea of Grizzop being there for the resurrections and on the airship. Gods, would he despise the airship.


End file.
